Turned Away from the Beautiful Gate

Someone will knock at the saints’ bright home

And hear the Lord say­ing

You can not come;

With sad­ness he’ll mourn

O’er his sor­row­ful state;

Turned away from the beau­ti­ful gate.

Turned away from the beau­ti­ful gate

Turned away from the beau­ti­ful gate

With sad­ness he’ll mourn

O’er his sor­row­ful state;

Turned away from the beau­ti­ful gate.

Someone will hear the an­gels’ song

And wish he could join with the hap­py throng;

With sigh­ings he’ll mourn

O’er his sor­row­ful state

Turned away from the beau­ti­ful gate.

Turned away from the beau­ti­ful gate

Turned away from the beau­ti­ful gate

With sigh­ings he’ll mourn

O’er his sor­row­ful state

Turned away from the beau­ti­ful gate.

Someone will stand with an ach­ing heart

While Je­sus pro­nounc­es the word

depart;

With groan­ings he’ll mourn

O’er his sor­row­ful state

Turned away from the beau­ti­ful gate.

Turned away from the beau­ti­ful gate

Turned away from the beau­ti­ful gate

With groan­ings he’ll mourn

O’er his sor­row­ful state

Turned away from the beau­ti­ful gate.

Someone will lin­ger with tear­ful eyes

While Christ and His peo­ple as­cend the skies;

With weep­ing he’ll mourn

O’er his sor­row­ful state

Turned away from the beau­ti­ful gate.

Turned away from the beau­ti­ful gate

Turned away from the beau­ti­ful gate

With weep­ing he’ll mourn

O’er his sor­row­ful state

Turned away from the beau­ti­ful gate.